I'm full of surprises, apparently.
This is a great chair. It was a hand-me-down like a lot of our furniture. I would have left it the orangey/blue/gold plaid, if I could have. I loved that it held so many memories. But along with a wonderful, soft, "lived-in" look, it also was ripping at the top, losing feathers from the seat cushion, and it smelled funny.
Which, again, is like a lot of our furniture.
The Coach said, "Why don't you see about having 'the' chair recovered?" I knew what he meant. The kids LOVE this chair. Fight over this chair. Play fort in this chair and use the feathers that poke through to make crafts.
He didn't have to ask me twice!
Isn't it pretty? (did I say that, already?)
I keep walking back and forth through the living room and every time I glance to it's corner, it makes me happy. Life certainly isn't about how amazing my house is (thank goodness!). But when something new and fun and pretty lands in my living room - I enjoy it! I enjoy the blessings we've been given. I know it's only because of the generosity of others, in some way or another. The Coach's job, and the income which provides for us, is a blessing. The hand-me-downs, the gifts, and so many other kind things we receive are all blessings. It's not anything I've done.
Maybe the reason I'm enjoying it (and I always enjoy something "new", don't you?) is because it IS new.
It hasn't been spilled on, spit up on (hopefully we've past that phase here - but you never know with boys), squished to death by piles of wrestling kids, slobbered on, or encrusted with raisins, granola bars, or goldfish crumbs. Never mind the "no eating in the living rooms" rule. It somehow happens, anyway.
There's just something about "new".
And it's reminded me, today, that I am "new", as well. I may still be living in this "old" body - yet to be redeemed - with it's smooshed raisin, spilled rootbeer, stuck on old candy cane issues, but my spirit? It's already BEEN redeemed and is sparkling new.
I find myself telling guests who sit at our dinner table, "Watch out for sticky." Is it just me? Or is everything in our entire house have something sticky on it? I just took the "small" van to the car wash and vacuumed it out. Where DO those little sticky drops come from? We don't allow our kids to trash out our cars OR our house. I think it just oozes from the kids, themselves. Kids=sticky. There's no avoiding it.
I can wash, clean, vacuum, and use every cleaning wipe in the house, but I guarantee there is sticky somewhere. Yesterday I had on a soft, velour sweatsuit. Little Man thought I had it on just so he could come snuggle up to my arm. And wipe his nose on it.
The chair is beautiful. New. Smells nice.
Not sticky. Or stained. Yet.
The rest of my house? Not so much.
I'm so grateful today for a clean heart. One that is "new" because of the blood of Jesus and His forgiveness and cleansing.
And the promise of a NEW, redeemed, body someday, too. Won't it be wonderful?
Will be nice to get rid of the sticky (and the stretch marks!)!